Home
by Clio S.S
Summary: About cats and Cancers. And home for both of them.


Last rays of sunlight had disappeared long ago, leaving only memory of the strip of soft redness in the corner where wall was reaching the ceiling. Hot air of summer, resounding with cicadas' song, came inside through the window. Ichigo rolled over with feeling of discomfort: a sudden annoying impression that single bed was too spacious. Again. Suppressing the sigh of irritation, he lifted his eye-lids and looked in direction of the wardrobe.

He hadn't expected that there would come a day when he would long - literally - for those arbitrarily possessive cat's claws. Yet, little time - shamefully little! - had passed before he found out that in empty bed he felt totally lost. Truly, cats were able to spoil a man in a moment, he thought. And make a man dependant, too, he added ironically, changing position again.

Oh, there was no need to despair, of course. Grimmjow tended to get moody. One time he didn't leave Ichigo's side for a moment, making him 'happy' with his presence absolutely everywhere; other time he didn't appear for days - only to impose his company and fullness of his cat's affection on Ichigo again. It simply kept happening and didn't depend on Ichigo and his behaviour in the slightest. After quite short acquaintance with ex-Espada, Ichigo could perhaps regard himself an expert on cats; still, little he cared for the reasons why Grimmjow kept abandoning him so suddenly. To think about it was a waste of time because the possible answers - had he really started wondering - multiplied exponentially. What mattered was that - however silly it sounded - Ichigo felt almost pitifully unsatisfied.

That matter had to be taken care of.

"Grimmjow...?" he spoke in an undertone, swallowing what was left of his pride. When he thought about it, he usually reached the conclusion his pride had been long gone somewhere between the turquoise gaze of Hollow cat and the soft touch of his tail.

Silence.

He felt like snorting, just like ex-Espada. What was he expecting? To interest a cat who didn't feel like getting interested was comparable to bringing Quincy and Shinigami together. Not impossible, but definitely difficult.

He sighed, looking in the ceiling and fleetingly reflecting if bats kept getting moody, too. Perhaps he should ask one day... But without Ulquiorra hearing.

Almost noiseless sound of the door being slid reached his ears. He raised his brew in surprise. Impossible became possible? No, it sounded like a baseline, not fitting a Shinigami - and a representative of a few another races - who himself was a curiosity taken out of National Geographic. Or 'Breakfast with spirits', for that matter.

He fixed his eyes on darkness of the closet; when nothing happened, he called again, "Grimmjow?" reflecting with a smirk if he should add 'pussy pussy'.

Ex-Espada moved into the room. Ichigo levered himself up on his elbows, wavering between feelings of disbelief and victory.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the bed?" he decided to strike while the iron was hot, at the same time asking himself with irony if this assumption could ever be further from the true. But, after all, he couldn't out of the blue take and buy a wider bed; it was out of question.

Grimmjow looked in his direction, leaving the remark unanswered. Master of taunting and sarcasm was silent as a ghost. But Ichigo was delighting in the mere sight of him. He moved aside to make room. Grimmjow approached the bed and lay down next to him, wrapping his feline frame around Shinigami and hiding the face in the curve of his neck. Ichigo closed his eyes. All thoughts vanished from his head, and he felt only a warm pleasure. The greatest mystery of his life was the sweetest one, too. He relished it shamelessly.

Grimmjow was lying in silence, pressing himself to him - just like ever. Some time had to pass for Ichigo to realize - and he did it cursing himself mentally, for a change - something was not all-right and had not been for a longer while. 'Spoil you a bit, and look what egoist you became, Kurosaki,' he thought, embarrassed, looking at Grimmjow - or, rather, trying to look as his nose was being tickled by the mop of soft hair.

"Grimmjow?" he asked for a third time this night.

He felt ex-Espada's muscles tightening all around him. If everything had been like ever, he could expect some ludicrously tender caresses now. He brushed his cheek against the soft hair. He was ready to listen the history of Grimmjow's problems, whatever they could be.

"I want to go to Hueco Mundo," he heard the answer he hadn't expected.

He froze. His thoughts, totally involuntarily, filled with echo of fighting and war, killing and suffering. The evening was still calm; a while ago he had lived through his best moment of the day, with everything seeming soft and warm. He was under the impression that Grimmjow cringed - absurd, for ex-Espada never cringed, not like this. Then he realized that these thoughts - emotions that filled him automatically at the very sound of 'Hueco Mundo' - must have reverberated in his reiatsu, that no-one could ever read better than Grimmjow. He felt almost guilty. After all, Hueco Mundo and his residents had fallen the same victim...

Grimmjow, almost soundlessly, took a deep breath. "I want to see Las Noches," he said in a softer voice, tickling at Ichigo's neck.

Ichigo swallowed. Countless times had he wondered how it'd felt to be a Hollow away from home - a Hollow who had chosen to live in the Human World, all-right, but who had never had any other choice, too. Or, had it happened, perhaps, only at a whim of a cat? This thought was unpleasant. He swallowed again. How long that idyll would last, he hadn't wondered at all. Now, he was under the impression all of this had never been more than a sweet dream.

Grimmjow raised his head, looking him into eyes for the first time this night. Ichigo thought the turquoise flickered with dismay, but he wasn't sure because he'd quickly averted his eyes. Through the gap between the curtains he spotted the distant star, shining brightly. He focused on its soothing twinkle. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his calm.

"Do you want me to go with you?" he asked after a moment. He hadn't enough courage to ask anything else.

The arms embraced him tighter, and that was an answer. Ichigo thought Grimmjow seemed to feel relieved. Soon ex-Espada was sleeping, his quiet breathing soothing the atmosphere of the night.

Ichigo waited for his sleep much longer, though.

* * *

They were walking through the empty corridors that were resonating only with their footsteps. Without saying a word, they were stopping in the enormous halls where beating of one heart resounded loudly in the silence, and hollowness of the other blended in a perfect symphony. Most of the stone giant was intact; damages, inflicted by a small group of Shinigami and their companions, were microscopic from a perspective of the whole palace. Now, Las Noches was a home of ghosts - that even ghosts gave a wide berth. Since they had set their foot on the white sand of Hueco Mundo, they were painfully aware that the hollow world had become ever more hollow. It would take some centuries - aeons - for stronger Hollows to decide and push their way onto the surface from the depths they kept hiding in, entirely content with their existence.

Rational part of Ichigo's mind kept calming him with every moment. The emptiness was to become empty and lifeless dimension that no being would agree to. Yet, fear squeezed his heart unceasingly - the gnawing uncertainty that the sense could never silence. Perhaps it was fear of the Hollow that still lived inside him - or was it the most ordinary human fear of being left alone? Involuntarily, he had clenched fists, and now he relaxed them, trying to regain his control.

Grimmjow was looking at the ceiling, now dark after the magic had ceased and the fake sun had went out. The light of the eternal moon was coming inside through the sparse windows, which made this place looking even more deserted. Only a madman would want to stay here.

And Grimmjow had never been a madman.

Right?

Ex-Espada let his eyelids fall and stood like this for a moment. Ichigo didn't stir, although - he realized - he would give his soul just to know what was his mind hiding. Yet, he could only wait.

Grimmjow exhaled and opened his eyes. For the first time since they had arrived here, he looked at Ichigo. Shinigami felt his heart suddenly leap under this gaze. Turquoise eyes, when focused on him, were flickering with calmness and an unearthly affection. This gaze was so open and so honest that Ichigo could barely stand it.

"Let's go home," Grimmjow said, just like that.

Ichigo felt dizzy. Suddenly, he couldn't hold back a smile, although, at the same time, he was under the impression something hot lumped in his throat. He nodded.

"Home," he agreed.

He let himself being guided through Garganta, not trusting his own senses. He was drunk with happiness.

'Home,' he repeated in his mind, smiling to himself ridiculously.

Never before had the sun on the blue sky appeared so wonderful to him.

He felt like smiling till the end of his life.


End file.
